


I Found You, I've Always Been Looking

by Krasimer



Series: Dreams of You 'Verse [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Falling In Love, I will always find you, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-20
Packaged: 2017-12-14 01:05:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And of course, something has to always go wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1: You Still Scare Me

With a sigh, William wiped down his mirror and eyed the stubble on his jaw, frowning. It still wasn't quite thick enough to justify shaving it.

He never had really had to shave too often, not even when puberty was supposed to be dragging over him. His father had been the same way, and he had never been able to explain. Everyone he met had always called him lucky for that particular trait. 

With an aggravated mutter, he started finger combing his hair, trying to pull it into some semblance of controlled. 

That was the other thing.

His hair had always been messy and crazy, hard to control and style. That was what had prompted him to chop it short, barely brushing his neck. His nose wrinkled as he grimaced at his reflection. Fuzzy haired and smooth cheeked, he couldn't count the number of times that he had been called a girl in highschool.

The hair, the non-existent beard, and the fact that he was barely over five feet tall and had always been that short, despite assurances that he would probably grow more, had made everything a living hell for him.

William rolled his eyes, grabbing for his brush. Before he could reach it, his hand slipped on the edge of the counter, overbalancing him and sending him to the floor.

For a moment, he would have sworn that he could hear the sounds of swords clashing and voices screaming. Then he looked up and there was only the sound of his slightly leaking showerhead. With a glance at the door, a feeling like he was being watched making him shudder, he drew in a deep shuddering breath and stood slowly.

"Seems like my dreams are starting to bleed over to the real world now." he looked at the mirror again, doing a double take when he couldn't recognise the face he saw there for a second. 

The face in the mirror was too long, too tall. The eyes were too narrow. The hair that was hanging in front of one of the eyes was too dark colored to be his.

Bracing both of his hands on the counter, he leaned forward slowly, scrutinizing the features that he was seeing.

After a second, he leaned back and nodded. The 'being watched' feeling was gone, and he once more recognized the face he was seeing. The hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach, however, seemed to burrow deeper and make itself at home. 

"Well, William." he whispered, tugging his boxers up a little more around the slight pudge of his middle. "Today is important. I don't know why, but it is."

With a satisfied smile, he nodded at himself in the mirror, then turned and switched the lights off, heading out of the room.

 

XxXxX

 

A knock on his door was all the warning he got before his nephews were in his apartment, dropping their stuff by the door. 

Before he could even say hello, they were working on imprinting their backsides into the cushions of his couch.

"Hello Uncle!" was all he got from Kaden before his fridge was being raided, leaving his brother to stretch out on the whole couch. A soft hiss escaped from Faran when his little brother pushed his legs onto the floor, dropping a pre-made sandwich into his lap. They shoved their elbows into each other for a minute before settling down and chewing their way noisily through the food that Kaden had brought over.

It was a few more minutes before Thomas got more than just smacking sounds out of his nephews. When they did speak, Faran laughed quietly and poked his little brother's cheek, provoking Kaden into snapping his teeth at his fingertip.

"Hi uncle." Faran smiled at his brother, poking him again, then repeatedly, yanking his hand back each time before teeth made contact with the skin.

"And how is your mother?" Thomas raised an eyebrow, looking between his nephews. "I trust you did not bother her as she got ready for this weekend?"

"She's renewing her vows, not joining the military." Faran muttered, wrapping his arm around his brother's shoulders.  
Kaden laughed, curling into his side and tapping out a rhythm on Faran's knee. "And her honeymoon with our Da. Finally."

Thomas rolled his eyes, swatting at Faran's head when he tugged on his brother's hair. "Be nice you two. Do I have to put you in separate corners?"

He laughed when they both looked horror struck, then continued. "I actually wanted to take you two around town before I have to go to a meeting tonight. You don't have to come with me to the meeting, but I would suggest it for the both of you. You are going to inherit the company when I step down at the age of five hundred."

Kaden snorted, the noise somewhat muffled by his hand. Faran smirked and shrugged. "Who's at the meeting? What's it about?"

"It's going to be boring, but I suggest you try to survive during it because it'll be about the imports and exports that our company does." Thomas smiled. "You're finally going to be learning about the structure of Heirabore."

"I still don't know why great-grandfather named it that." Kaden mumbled. "Like he was planning on us inheriting the strangest  
named company ever. What if he was mocking us?"

With one last shrug of his shoulders, he tossed their discarded coats and them and grinned when they groaned. "I said we were going out before the meeting started."

 

XxXxX

 

It was a beautiful sunny day, so William should have known that it would go wrong somewhere along the way.

He hadn't felt the need for a hat, or a pocket handkerchief, but he had strangely felt the need to tuck the long folding blade his mother had given him into his pocket. His mother had been given the blade as a gift to him, from one of her friends. The knife itself looked normal, like any other knife might look.

The the metal, however, was an odd blue color.

The handle was normal, the bits holding it together were normal, and the blade part of it was a dark blue color that shined, even on the most overcast day.

It had felt familiar when he had been given it, and it had felt right to strap it into the pocket of his vest. Normally, he would have had a watch in that pocket, but he hadn't felt like today called for normal. Today felt like it called for adventure, like something was thrumming through his blood and exciting him. 

Something out of the corner of his eye made him pause as he was about to turn a corner on the street. Standing about half a block from him was a man with dark hair. 

With a glance at the street, William stopped to study the man. 

He looked familiar and, as he was strangely getting used to, he caused the image of the mountains from his dream to come to mind. He was tall, thin as a plank, and his eyes were an odd shade of brown.

They almost looked...

William swallowed, squinting to try and get a better look. If he didn't know that it was impossible, he would say that the man had yellow eyes. He was wearing a long red coat, the color of drying blood, on top of pants in a darker shade of the same color. His fists were clenched at his sides, but he didn't look angry. He looked resigned, frustrated, and a bit bewildered, but he didn't look angry. 

He also seemed to be staring right at William.

With a glance over his shoulder, William raised an eyebrow, hand creeping towards the edge of his vest pocket. When he looked back, however, the man was gone.

Shrugging, William crossed the road and pushed the incident from his mind. 

"Have got to go." he whispered, almost mindlessly. "Have people to see."

A loud screech made him look up, just in time to see a man trying to run a red light. He stood there, in shock, as the vehicle careened closer to him, seemingly intent on running him down. A large hand wrapped around his upper arm, yanking him out of the way just in time for the car to slam off course through where he had been standing and smash against a wall. 

For a moment, nothing happened.

The hand around his arm was still there, the car was still a fragmented mess of metal and spinning tires, and he still felt more than a little dazed. The soft tinktinktink noise of the engine rapidly cooling down was the only sound for a moment. Then William's brain kicked in and he turned to look at whoever had saved him.

It was the man from the airport, the chain still around his neck, his hair pulled back into a thick ponytail.

Suddenly, William couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't even swallow around his now extremely dry throat. The man looked at his hand, still on William's shoulder, like he hadn't been aware that he had reached out and grabbed him.

The strangely serene moment was broken when two voices cut through the silence.

"UNCLE!"

Turning to look, the man still didn't let go of William. Instead, his fingers dug deeper, like he intended to never let go. Which, weirdly, was fine with William. He didn't want the man to let go. 

"Faran, Kaden." the man frowned around the words, the expression on his face an odd mixture of confusion and happiness. "Would you call an ambulance for the man who just crashed?"

William laughed, then covered his face with his hands.

The man turned to him, head cocked at an angle. "Hmm?"

"I just..." he chuckled, then snorted quietly, closing his eyes and sighing. He took a deep breath and tried again. "You're just so calm about it. Think I might be going into shock of some kind..."

"You were nearly run over. Some shock is understandable." a large toothy grin stretched across his face. "Thomas Oberlin."

"William Bernherdt." William smiled, thinking he saw a soft pink flush across Thomas's face for a second before it disappeared. 

"Thank you for saving my life."

Thomas nodded, tugging him over to a short wall nearby, sitting him on it carefully. "You're welcome. Can you name the president, or tell me what fifteen times fourty-two is? Or do you think you're alright?"

William laughed again, this time a bit more softly. "I think I'm fine, thank you."

There was silence again, until Thomas's nephews came running back over and both tried talking at once. The blonde one looked at William, eyebrow raised. The brunette one, apparently the younger of the two, looked between his uncle and William, their hands still together.

A sick feeling building in his stomach, William pulled his hand back, doing his best to ignore the look on the other man's face. 

This felt familiar, and he couldn't place why. All he knew was that it was the man from the airport, and that the dreams...

The dreams had started up again after he had spotted him.

William stood suddenly, a hand over his mouth. "I think I have to go." he closed his eyes. 

"What?"

"I think I have to go, right now." William nodded, eyes still tightly closed. 

Without another glance behind him, he ran off.

 

XxXxX

 

Watching the shorter man run off, Thomas felt like something had been ripped from his chest.

The feeling only grew worse the farther away the he got, and with a shake of his head, Thomas looked at his hand. The nails were clipped short, well groomed, the palm was soft-skinned and paler than the other side of his hand. It wasn't threatening, as far as he could tell, and his mind was screaming at him for letting William get away.

Someone's hand on his shoulder made him jump, and when he turned to look, Faran had an eyebrow raised.

"You shouldn't do that too much." Kaden teased, trying to lighten the sudden atmosphere between the three of them. "Faran, you look just like mom right now."

Thomas smiled, feeling like his face hadn't moved for years. Shaking his head at his nephews, he looked at the crashed car and sighed. "Did you call an ambulance?"

"I did." Kaden volunteered. "They're on their way."

Faran narrowed his eyes at his uncle, like he was trying to figure something out just from looking at his face. "He seemed familiar."

"He did." Thomas licked his lips, suddenly feeling like he needed water. "Like I've met him before, but I can't figure out where from."

Movement made him look around, spotting a man in a red coat coming towards them. The look on his face made Thomas uneasy, like someone had given the man a description of them and had never been shown a picture. Like he was looking for them.

Like he was hunting them down.

That thought panicked him, and for a second, Thomas couldn't breathe. The scent of metal filled his nose, and he closed his eyes, trying to think of anything other than a nightmare that he had had as a young child.

(A dragon, all teeth and wings, breathing deadly fire down on the people trying to run away. No escape for anyone, because no one can move fast enough.)

Thomas can hear his nephews calling his name, can even feel one of them grabbing his wrist, but he couldn't respond. It felt like his stomach was being pulled out of him, inch by inch, and someone was filling the empty space with ice instead.

The next thing Thomas knew, he was sitting on the wall again, a nephew on each side. The man in the red coat was steadying him, a hand on his shoulder and a frustrated look in his eyes.

"If I had known that this would happen when I approached," he sighed, then nodded when Thomas looked up. "I would not have approached this soon, in this public of a spot. Your pride might have suffered this day."

Now that he was closer, Thomas could make out a strange yellow color in his eyes. His hair had red strands through it, like veins of color in a stone. His nose was severely pointed, and his chin was as well.

All together, he looked very much like the nightmare creature that Thomas had thought he'd escaped when he was younger.

"Who are you?"

The man turned to Kaden and sighed before smiling slightly. "That's not important right at this second. What is important is that you get your stubborn uncle back in the same room as the man who just ran off. When that happens, come find me." he nodded, then looked at Faran. "Will you help this happen? It's very important. Something went wrong before, and it really is important that they be together. Even if it's just in the same room."

Faran hesitated for a moment before he nodded, leaning around his uncle to poke his brother's shoulder. "We'll both help."

The man nodded, standing up straight, gesturing for one of them to hold their uncle upright. When one of them did, he started searching through his pockets, making a noise of triumph when he retrieved a piece of paper and a pen. Writing something on the paper, he pressed it into Thomas's hand and curled his fingers around it.

"I am not the villain." he whispered. "Not this time around."

With that, he whirled around and ran off, coat billowing behind him. Thomas took a deep shuddering breath before looking at the paper in his hand. 

It read, in very angular writing, "I am Smaug. Find the Hobbit, Thorin."

XxXxX


	2. Older Brothers Can Be Annoying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Demetrius talks to his cousins and finds some things out. After that, he meets his boyfriends brothers.

It was a Tuesday morning when Oliver Ritter woke up to the feeling of an arm around his waist.

He realized that the other man was still there when he had turned over and tried to stretch, unable to lift himself off the bed. 

Demetrius's arm was wrapped around his waist, tight enough to keep him pinned but loose enough to allow him to breathe and for a moment, he just stared at the man still in his bed.

They had gone on a couple of dates, had dinner at Demetrius's small apartment, had an almost picnic on the front porch of the two story house that Oliver owned. They had spent enough time together that Oliver had felt comfortable with this. Felt comfortable enough to let the older man into his bed.

That didn't mean he had expected him to still be there in the morning.

If Demetrius had not been there, had chosen to quietly creep out in the morning and ignore him for the rest of...Well...Forever, he would have been distraught, but he could deal with it. To be still there, and even further be holding onto him, that was something completely unexpected. Oliver hadn't counted on waking up with Demetrius still there, but he couldn't deny that it made something in his chest loosen.

It was like he had been granted a wish that he didn't even know he had wanted.

He'd wanted the older man to be there in the morning. He'd wanted him to be there so that he could watch him wake up, he wanted him there now, just as he felt like he would want him there in twenty years.

Oliver smiled as the man shifted and ended up pulling him closer, dragging him to rest on his collarbone. 

As far as he could tell, Demetrius was still dead asleep.

From this angle, he could see the hairs in his beard that were lighter than the rest, as well as the soft lines around his eyes. The tattoos on his neck stood out in the soft morning light. 

For a moment, Oliver entertained himself with the thought of Donald, the overprotective older brother being as he was, catching sight of them and having a fit. He would probably also latch onto the age difference between them, citing it as a reason that Demetrius should back off.

Oliver scrunched his nose up, making a face at the wall.

Of course Donald would. He was the oldest of the three of them, and he could never quite get over the fact that Oliver was old enough to not only vote, but to drink as well. He still joked that Oliver was fifteen, and would never grow up past that.

All together, it just made Oliver want to either cry or slap him.

To know that his brother's thought of him as a baby, someone completely unable to deal with the real world, just made everything so much worse. The fact that Donald and Nicholas both nagged him to get a real job also irritated him.

Neither of them could understand why he loved working in a library.

A large hand plopping on top of his head made him squeak in surprise, jerking his head around to see that Demetrius's eyes were open. The man gave him a slow smile, stroking a finger down his cheek.

Oliver smiled back and adjusted himself until the top of his head was tucked beneath Demetrius's chin.

"It's too early fer yer thoughts to be that distractin'." he muttered, tugging lightly on the hair hanging over Oliver's shoulder.  
"How'd yeh sleep?"

Smiling, Oliver leaned up and pressed their foreheads together. "Slept pretty well. Felt nice to wake up with someone else here."

"Yeh thought I wasn't gonna be?" Demetrius chuckled, wrapping one large hand around the back of Oliver's neck, tugging him in closer and sighing. 

"Maybe..." Oliver trailed off, closing his eyes as Demetrius scratched softly at his scalp. Almost purring, he nearly missed what the man said next. 

"I don't plan on leavin' yeh unless I have ta."

An electronic noise startled them both, Demetrius sighing and reaching for his discarded pants. One of the legs was still on the bed, making retrieving them easier. Grumbling, he yanked them up until he could fumble through the pockets and grab his cell phone.

Oliver laughed at him, leaning back so that Demetrius could have a bit of privacy.

He startled when the man groaned and covered his eyes.

"What's wrong?"

Demetrius sighed and pulled Oliver back up to kiss him. 

"Leavin' yehr side is going to happen earlier than I wanted ta." sneering at his phone, he chucked it back onto the floor.  
"Apparently there's a last minute family meeting."

Before Oliver could ask anything else, Demetrius had grabbed him around the waist and rolled them over, curling the smaller body closer.

"My brother and cousins can wait a little bit to be graced with my presence." he muttered.

It was another hour before they left the bed for the day.

 

XxXxX

 

Demetrius growled at his cousin's nephews when they seemed to just appear in front of him. 

That particular talent of theirs was something that they had always been able to do, and he had always loathed their ability to do it. Sneaking up on people not only enabled Faran and Kaden to eavesdrop shamelessly, but it also allowed them to ambush anyone and catch them off guard. 

Today it seemed like they wanted to find something out from him.

Growling, he tried to push his way past them without actually touching them, but he found himself blocked when Kaden had no such issues with physical contact.

"You have a mark on your neck. Is it a new tattoo?"

If he was sure he could get away with it, he would murder the both of them. They were talking in synch, like they'd been able to from what seemed like the moment Kaden could talk.

Leaning forward, Faran grinned and announced something that made Demetrius want to throttle him. "No!" he jokingly wolf whistled, "That's a set of teeth marks!"

Kaden laughed and stood on his toes to get a better look, hooking a finger into the collar of Demetrius's shirt and tugging slightly. "And there's more of them!"

Before either one of the brothers could yank his shirt off, Demetrius barged past them, a hand on each shoulder and pushing them away. "Yehr uncle needs to take some skin off the nose of both of ya." he muttered. Hearing the both of them revving up for another ambush on him, he sped up and got to the kitchen before either one of them could grab for him again.

His brother stood at the stove, discussing something in a quiet voice with their cousin.

Today, Thomas had forgone the usual suit and tie look he almost always wore, and had instead worn a long sleeved shirt, dark blue with a design in silver over the left shoulder. His hair was also not the well-managed ponytail he wore most days. Instead, it looked like he had grabbed a hair tie and pulled it back without a mirror or a brush.

Which was, Demetrius decided, what he probably had done, given the dark circles under his eyes.

When Thomas stopped, breathing fast, he turned to Demetrius and nodded. An eyebrow raised, Demetrius nodded back, shrugging and gesturing between then two men in front of him.

"What's goin' on? Are yeh alright?"

Thomas frowned, then sat down at the table and drummed his fingers slowly on the edge of it. "I am fine. I fear I may be losing my mind, but I am fine."

He pulled a chair out from the table, spinning it on one leg until the back of it was facing away from him and he sat down, leaning forward. When Thomas didn't explain any further, he raised an eyebrow and frowned.

"I found someone." Thomas looked at the floor, seeming like he wished he could disappear. "His name is William and I swear that I've met him before."

"That it?" Demetrius grumbled, "Doesn't seem like somethin' for yeh to be worried about."

"Something happened and he ran away from me, shortly before a man ran up to me and handed me a note that informed me that he was named Smaug and that I needed to find a hobbit." Thomas rubbed at his temples, like he was trying to rub away a headache. "What is a HOBBIT?"

Chuckling, Bartholemew sat down in between them, handing them each a steaming mug of something. When Demetrius looked down, he saw that the coffee in his mug was exactly how he liked it. Looking over at Thomas's mug showed him that his brother still did customised drinks for family.

"Calm down Thomas." Bartholemew took a small sip of his own mug, smiling. "Think it over rationally. This man approached you.  
He was lucid, and he obviously had thought it out before finding you."

"The name Smaug frightens me." Thomas murmured, wrapping the string of his teabag around his finger and swirling the hot liquid in his mug. "It's like...A memory of a nightmare or something."

Looking between his brother and his cousin, Demetrius tilted his head. "What about the man yeh found? Where did he get ta?"

"He said he had to go. He ran away from me. He didn't want..." making an unhappy noise in his throat, Thomas pushed his mug aside and flopped his head down onto the table. "Something is wrong here."

Patting Thomas's shoulder, Bartholemew turned to Demetrius. "You texted earlier, said you had something to tell us?"

Demetrius bit the inside of his bottom lip and shook his head. "Not as important as..." he waved a hand at the two men and shrugged.

"Family news is always important." 

With a sigh, Demetrius nodded, the look in his brother's eyes convincing him. "Met someone. Meetin' his brothers. Couple a days from now."

"Well then. I should meet them as well." Bartholemew watched as Demetrius groaned and covered his face. "Sounds like you're more than a bit serious about this man. What is his name?"

"Oliver Ritter."

Bartholemew smirked, hiding behind his mug. "Where did you meet him?"

"Don't think that yehr mug is gonna hide that smirk." Demetrius growled, "I met him at a library."

"A library?" Thomas looked up, an eyebrow raised. Reaching for his mug again, he smirked as well. "Since when do you go into libraries?"

"Since I heard something that sounded..." he paused, eyebrows lowering and frown deepening. "Familiar."

Both of the other man paused, then looked at him. 

Thomas frowned as well. "Familiar...How?"

"I heard him hummin'." Demetrius muttered, "I couldn't walk away when I heard it. Made me go a little bit..."

"Crazy. Hmm?" Bartholemew stared at his brother. "Sort of like how Thomas was feeling after he met William."

"I guess so." Standing up, Demetrius tugged at his beard and sighed. With a soft growl, he pushed his chair back towards the table with his foot. "I'm not gonna let him go. He's mine, yeh cannot convince me otherwise!"

"Demetrius..." Bartholemew stood, hands out in a placating gesture. "Put down the knife."

Taking a deep breath, he slowly uncurled his fingers from around the handle of the knife that his brother had been using to prepare dinner. When he could breathe again, without feeling like something was pressing on his chest, he nodded and set the knife down on the counter. 

"Sorry." he muttered.

Thomas looked between the two brothers and nodded slowly. "And that is what it felt like for William to walk away from me."

"Oliver Ritter and William..."

"Bernherdt." Thomas nodded. "That's his name."

"Well..." Bartholemew smiled, tugging the knife away from his brothers reach. "At least we know one thing."

"And what is that?" Demetrius growled. "Something strange is goin' on?"

Bartholemew shook his head, then shrugged. "The man that Thomas ran into. Smaug. He obviously has something to do with this."

With a feeling like he had been smacked, Demetrius sat back down heavily, having pulled the chair out again. "What is goin' ta happen now..." he whispered, rubbing at his eyes.

 

XxXxX

 

Donald tended to worry when his little brother didn't tell him everything. 

Somehow, Oliver had forgotten this. Despite the fact that he was an adult, despite the fact that they lived in seperate houses now, Donald was still a worry-wart about anything that might happen.

Oliver sighed when Donald set a plate down in front of him. "You're going to say something, I just know it." he muttered, tugging at the cuff of his sleeve.

"You're still young, Oliver. You don't need to find someone that much older than you." Donald shook his head when Oliver tried to speak. "How much older is he than you?"

"He's almost eleven years older. He's only..." Oliver trailed off when Donald gave him a look. "Please, just meet him before you dismiss him. Even if you disapprove, I'm still going to see him. I'm an adult, you can't tell me what to do."

Donald's lips quirked up on one side, a strange little half smile. "I can still tell you what to do,I just can't enforce it anymore."

Laughing quietly, Oliver shrugged and nodded. "True."

Neither of them spoke for a minute, and Oliver looked at the clock before breaking the silence. "Is Nicholas going to be here, or is he just showing up for the dinner tomorrow where you both get to interrogate my boyfriend?"

"He's going to be here. He said that he was going to be a little bit late." Donald made a face before standing to pull the now screaming teakettle off the burner. "Late meaning-"

"-About half an hour to an hour." Oliver finished, nodding. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

There was silence again, Oliver tugging nervously at his hair. Donald sighed and leaned forward, bumping their heads together for a moment. 

"Does he make you happy?"

Oliver looked up at him, eyes wide. "Yes. It's going to sound weird, but this feels familiar and comfortable and somehow he seems to be just so very..." he frowned, "I think the word is devoted. I don't want to get ahead of myself, but this is..."

"Oliver." Donald sighed. "I just don't want you to get hurt. You know that, right?" 

Leaning forward, he pushed his brothers hair out of his face and smiled. When they heard the door open, both of them turned to look. 

Nicholas grinned at the both of them, shaking off his umbrella. "Hell of a storm tonight. Nearly had my head torn off by a tree branch!"

Donald raised an eyebrow while Oliver laughed.

"What?" 

"Your tea is on the counter." Donald rolled his eyes. "And dinner is almost ready."

"Right then..." Nicholas ignored both things for now, scooting into a chair and resting his elbows on the table as he stared at their little brother. "So..."

Oliver hid his face in his hands. "Both of you stop it!" he laughed, eyes shut so tightly that his nose was scrunched up. "You get to meet him. I promise you get to meet him! He's coming to dinner tomorrow. I swear, he's not going to back out, I'm not going to disappear, we're both going to be there! He took a couple of days off from his job to be with me this weekend and-"  
He trailed off when he noticed that both Donald and Nicholas were staring at him. Their jaws were hanging slack and open, their eyes wide.

Donald cleared his throat, while Nicholas smirked. "A whole weekend, little brother?"

"And what," Donald was pink cheeked, and seemed to be trying not to panic. "Is this man's name?"

Wincing slightly, Oliver licked his lips. "Demetrius Ingles." he swallowed nervously, "He works as a prison guard."

"How'd you meet?" Nicholas raised an eyebrow, no longer smiling. "Because if you've started taking after me with getting into brawls and such, I'll tan yer hide."

"I was at work when we met. He was on his way home when he popped into the library to ask about books on tattoo design."  
Oliver shrugged. "He wants a new one and he wanted to get some inspiration for it."

Looking like his brain was malfunctioning, Donald stood up and curled his fingers around the edge of the table. "How many does he have?"

"He hasn't got any beneath his clothes." 

When both of his brothers gave him an incredulous look, he flushed a dark pink color. "I mean, he told me! Before we..." he cleared his throat and the color deepened. "He doesn't like the thought of a tattoo needle near the sensitive bits, and anything other than arms, legs, neck and head counts as that."

Donald frowned and shook his head, retrieving the tea from the counter and setting it down in a way that managed to sound irritated.

"He's nice and he feels safe and I like him and I honestly do not care if you don't like him." Oliver gave them both a look, eyes narrowing slightly. "The both of you will lose if you try to make me get rid of him."

None of them spoke, Oliver glaring at his brothers as he waited for that to sink in.

"It's alright, little brother. We just want you to be happy." Nicholas held up his hands in surrender. "We'll meet the guy. Just want you to be happy and safe."

Oliver sighed, his shoulders relaxing.

"And hey," Nicholas continued. "When did you get scary?"

Donald laughed, mussing up Oliver's hair as he went past. "I do believe that our brother has always been like that. There's just a measure of irritated he has to go through before he gets there."

 

XxXxX

 

Demetrius clenched his hands together, trying to steady himself before he raised his hand to knock on the door.

They'd decided to have the dinner at Oliver's house.

While he appreciated that, he had a vague sense of doom about the whole thing, mostly because he..

Frowning he shook his head. Now was not a time to weirdly remember this, like it had happened before. Now was the time to impress older siblings and make sure that they knew he was a good match for the youngest in the family.

A few seconds later, he still hadn't knocked.

"Are you lost?"

Nearly jumping and falling, Demetrius turned and saw a man coming towards him, a pot in his hands. His hair was still mostly dark auburn, but there were bits of silver streaking through it. When he didn't answer, the man shifted the pot onto his hip, raising an eyebrow. 

"I'm not lost. I'm just..." Demetrius frowned, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I'm worried."

The man nodded slowly. "You're Demetrius Ingles, aren't you?"

"How do yeh know-"

"I'm Donald Ritter." The man offered his hand, "Oliver's brother."

Swallowing against the lump forming in his throat, Demetrius shook his hand. "Yeh're his brother. The older of the two?"

"Yes." Donald smiled, his teeth showing in a way that was decidedly threatening. "Nicholas was only a few minutes behind me on our way here. You have time to tell me what you're worried about."

"Well..." Demetrius let his eyes drop to focus on his shoes, hesitating for a moment. "Honestly? Makin' a good impression with yeh two."

He bristled as Donald's eyes swept across him, narrowing when he spotted the tattoos.

"Physically, you're far too similar to Nicholas's friends for me to be comfortable." Donald frowned, looking at the tattoos on his neck again. "But as far as personality and first meetings go, you seem alright to me."

Demetrius looked to the door, a small smile growing on his face as he thought of the man behind it. "I just want him ta be..." he looked back to Donald, "I just want him ta be happy."

Nodding, Donald smiled again, this time looking like an actual smile and not a silent threat. "Also, you're about an hour early. The plan was to have dinner all cooked when you arrived, so that we could see how you reacted in an unsettling environment." 

He stepped forward and knocked sharply, three times exactly. "But now you get to help us cook."

Oliver opened the door then, smiling brightly at Demetrius. When he spotted his brother, however, the cheer lessened and he sighed, looking between them. 

"Please tell me that you didn't threaten him." Oliver begged. "Donald, you said you wouldn't."

Donald didn't respond. Instead, he walked past his brother and started humming as he made his way towards the kitchen. Even when Oliver trailed after him and started poking his arm, he still didn't answer.

Still at the door, Demetrius almost fell over when someone lay a hand on his shoulder. A man with brown hair, pulled back into a strange series of intricate braids, was standing there. His eyebrows were raised, a smirk on his lips. With a quiet chuckle, the man brushed past him as well, joining Donald and Oliver in the kitchen. 

The only thing that he could think was that it had to be the other brother, Nicholas.

With a hard swallow, he walked quietly into the house. Normally it felt welcoming, but today it felt like he would be forced back out the door if he made one wrong move. Oliver's brothers both looked at him when he entered, crossing immediately to the sink and scrubbing at his hands.

Oliver himself, however, was standing at the cutting board. One hand on a knife, the other on the onion he was currently chopping, he seemed to be waiting for something, eyes trained on his brothers. 

It was only when Demetrius walked over and grabbed a cutting board from next to the sink, as well as a knife and some of the vegetables next to Oliver that anyone moved. Donald didn't say anything, lips quirking into a smile as he bustled about and started making the rest of their dinner. Nicholas ran his finger along the edge of the knife that he was using, smirking at the both of them.

"Going to be cute and cuddly now?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is actually my favorite of the three chapters so far for this particular section of the story. It ties them together in a way the others haven't yet.
> 
> You get the actual dinner in the next chapter for these guys. Nicholas and Blaise have decided that they want to be written now.


	3. When Soul meets Soul on Lovers Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things can change in a very short while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God, so there's sort-of-porn in this chapter. It's nothing much, but it is a little something and I didn't actually mean to write it, but sometimes it seems like the characters have their own minds and I'm just dictating their lives onto the page.
> 
> I'm just going to post this without explaining any more.
> 
> Also, things are happening now, and the plot is moving forward. I'm so excited! This is my first major story for a fandom that I haven't lost interest in along the way. These guys keep me captivated.

Their fourth date is as comfortable as their third, which was just as lovely as their first and second.

Nicholas had gone temporarily mute at the sight of Blaise in a soft blue sweater, rolled up to his elbows with the collar of a white button shirt showing at his neck. His jeans were well fitted, and his mouth had gone dry before he swallowed thickly and smiled at the man. Blaise himself looked like he was having trouble dragging his eyes upwards, catching Nicholas's gaze and flushing a pleasing pink color.

They made it through dinner without Nicholas saying something stupid.

It wasn't until they had made the trip to Blaise's apartment and gone in to have some after-dinner drinks that he said anything he regretted. 

"Does this feel like it's happened before?"

Blaise gave him a look, an eyebrow raised, his cup paused on the way to his mouth. He didn't say anything in response, giving 

Nicholas time to mentally kick himself. The look on the man's face was probably something to go by, and he didn't look happy. If told to describe it, he would have said that it was a cross between confused and scared, with a small dash of something he couldn't put a name to in there as well.

"I'm sorry, I-" Nicholas stumbled over his words, tugging at one of the braids in his hair and setting his glass down as he stood. "I should just-" vaguely motioning to the door, he nodded. "I'm sorry."

He had turned around before he felt a hand on his shoulder, bringing his movement to an immediate halt.

"You don't have to go." Blaise's eyes were wide, "In fact, I would really like it if you didn't."

His hand slipped down to knot their fingers together.

With a failed attempt at some sentence that actually sounded like words, Nicholas allowed himself to be dragged back down to the couch, Blaise pulling him in closer than before. Their glasses were left ignored on the table in front of them as they locked eyes and stayed silent for a moment.

Blaise broke the silence. 

"This feels familiar to you too?"

"More than familiar." Nicholas nodded, "Like it has happened before, except that it hasn't because I know that if I had found someone it felt like this with before, I would have kept a hold of them. Anyone that felt this familiar and..." here he broke off and looked away, glancing back at Blaise and smiling softly. "Would not have been easy for me to let go of."

"It feels like there's a whole history between us..." Blaise murmured, "Like a lifetime that we've somehow forgotten." He put a hand on Nicholas's arm, squeezing slightly. "I don't think it's possibly to forget you."

Nicholas nodded, then leaned forward and rested their foreheads together. Hesitating for a moment, he pressed his lips to Blaise's, chaste and careful. Blaise's hand came up and tangled in his hair, pressing back as he leaned into the kiss and a soft sighing sound escaped him.

On the trip to his bedroom, clothing scattered in a random path in the hallway, Blaise nudged his nose into Nicholas's hair, pulling him in and allowing himself to be pushed against a wall, letting Nicholas pull his legs up and around his waist. 

"Not makin' it to the bedroom." Nicholas panted, kissing his cheek. "Don't think so anyways..."

Blaise nodded, an indecent sound coming out of him. "Don't care. Next time."

His words were coming out in short gasps, his breathing was more panting than anything useful. With a carefully placed bite, Nicholas managed to make Blaise knock his head against the wall. Hips rolling to meet Nicholas's, he groaned.

"Don't I know you?" Nicholas whispered, kissing the underside of his jaw. "Beautiful."

 

XxXxX

 

Blaise woke up slowly, nose wrinkling at the bright sunlight streaming into his eyes from the curtains he hadn't closed the night before.

Raising an arm to block out the light, he muttered a couple of phrases that would have made his mother reach for the bar of soap. Confusion settled in when the light faded, the sounds of movement waking him up a little more.   
With a pleased murmur, he remembered the night before.

Opening his eyes again, fully, he sat up and watched as Nicholas grumbled. The other man was still completely undressed from the night before, his braids tangled and falling down. Scrubbing a hand across his eyes, he yawned, jaw opening far enough to crack.

"You sleep alright?" he had a low throaty sound to his voice in the morning and it was enough to make Blaise smile. 

"I slept well...Little residual soreness." Blaise shrugged, watching Nicholas lean over and pull a shirt from the chair next to the bed. He lay it in Blaise's lap, then stood and stretched, before going off to find his own clothing. Looking at the shirt in his hands, Blaise smiled when he realized that it was one he usually wore to bed, overly large and very soft.

Tugging it on, he went to find the man, who seemed to be stumbling around the apartment.

Blaise followed Nicholas to the kitchen, where there was only a moment of pause before Nicholas was pulling open the cupboards and hunting down mixing bowls. When he pushed Blaise towards the breakfast bar, he went willingly, an eyebrow raised.

"You're making-"

"Breakfast." Nicholas looked down at the bowl in his hands, dumping ingredients for something into it. "Food makes every morning better. Even when they're already kind of awesome."

Looking into the bowl and at the other things that had been pulled out, Blaise smiled. "Are you making pancakes?"

A nod was all the reply he got, Nicholas still yawning every few minutes.

In a short time, there was a plate of warm pancakes in front of him, Nicholas resting his head on the breakfast bar. His hair was almost dragging into his own plate, causing Blaise to lean forward and tug it out of the way.

"You've never really been much for the mornings, have you Nori?" he muttered, smiling fondly at him as he ran his fingers through the braids still in Nicholas's hair.

Nicholas slid his eyes open slowly. "Mmh?"

Blaise blinked, then shook his head once. "That was weird." shrugging, he pulled the bottle of syrup towards himself and paused again. "Where did that come from?"

"Dunno..." With a grunt, Nicholas stretched his back out again, sitting up and pulling his plate closer. "I like it though. Sounds...Interestin'."

 

XxXxX

 

They had finally parted, Blaise's brothers calling him in for a shift at the bakery.

Nicholas was left in the apartment, a sheet of paper in front of him, a pen clutched tightly in his hand as he stared at the wall. It felt like there was something making his mind itch, something that could only be written down and he could not for the billionth time of trying, get it down on the paper in front of him.

Sighing, he loosened his grip, knuckles slowly fading back to normal colored after being white for so long.

Rubbing at his forehead, he wrote down his name instead. 'Nicholas Ritter' in letters that were as close to caligraphy as he could get. After a moment of thought, he crossed out several of the letters, until only the first two of each name remained.

"Nori, huh?" he muttered. "I really do like it."

Shrugging, he stood and walked to the kitchen to grab something to drink. In the middle of chugging the glass of water down, his phone went off, startlingly loud in the quiet of the room. 

Breathing fast, he picked it up and hit the answer button, not even sparing a glance at the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Is your name Nicholas Ritter?"

The voice on the other end of the line was odd. Like someone speaking into the wide mouth of a half filled waterbottle, while dropping as low as they could go in their range.

"Yeah. If I'd let it go to voicemail, you would have figured that out." Raising an eyebrow, he set the glass down and leaned against the counter. "The hell are you?"

A sigh on the other end of the line made him shudder. It sounded like a dragon preparing the shoot flames at someone.

"My name is not so important right now. What is important is that Bo-...Blaise needs you to meet him at work today." the voice growled slightly, like it was warning someone to back off. "Something is going to happen. It's not my fault. I am trying to warn you of something that will happen. He will need you there."

The line went dead before Nicholas could reply to that. 

A shiver ran down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. Figuring that Blaise wouldn't mind if showed up at his work just in case, he tidied up the area he had been sitting in really quickly before running out the door.

 

When he got to the cafe that the Udell brothers ran with their cousin, he immediately looked around. Seeing no danger, he slowed his pace as he went inside. When he got to the counter, Blaise was the one taking customer's orders. 

"I'll be with you in a moment!" he said cheerily, his back to the counter as he set up the next couple of orders for the people who had been in there before Nicholas had arrived. Turning, he paused for a moment before his smile grew even wider. 

"And what can I get you?" he chuckled, leaning on one elbow across the stone countertop between them. 

Nicholas leaned in as well, looking around before kissing Blaise's cheek. "I think I want something sweet and warm."

Mischief in his eyes, Blaise leaned in close, his breath hitting Nicholas's lips, before pulling back and standing in front of the register. "So a hot chocolate with whipped cream, then?" it came out as more of a laugh than a question, his hands already punching in the numbers.

Groaning, Nicholas nodded. "Sounds about right."

Behind Blaise, his brother was clinging to the counter, trying not to fall over as he laughed. Buckley was a round man, with thick red hair that was pulled into a series of short braids, his beard decorated the same way. 

Near the counter was a man in a dark red coat, a black turtleneck underneath. If he hadn't moved, Nicholas wouldn't have noticed him. He gave a little wave, smiling like he was relieved. 

"Nicholas?" 

Looking back at Blaise, he felt himself smiling as a warmth spread through him. The wide, toothy, charming grin was making him feel like the world had shrunk down to them. He took the large mug with whipped cream spilling over the edges from him, making sure that the grip he had on the saucer wouldn't slip.

Leaning a little over the bar that separated them, Blaise knocked their foreheads together and laughed. "I'll be off work in a few hours, alright?"

"Got it." Nicholas felt the smile on his face grow, almost achingly, wider. He dipped a finger in the whipped cream and licked it off. "Am I at your place tonight?"

"I would like for you to be." Blaise chuckled, then gestured to a table. "Go drink your chocolate."

Sticking his tongue out at him, Nicholas went to sit down, pulling a chair out with his foot.

Somehow, while he was distracted, the man in the red coat had come to stand beside him. When he turned, he was face to face with the odd yellow eyes that made his stomach feel like it had been yanked out through his feet. 

"You two seem happy."

Blinking, Nicholas took a deep breath, trying to calm his thudding pulse. "You're the one who called me. Good to meet you. Who the hell are you, and why do you have my number?"

"It is a long story." the man muttered, leaning his head into his hands, nails digging into his hairline. "You probably won't remember most of it."

"Excuse me, remember?" Nicholas raised an eyebrow, trying to slip his phone out from his pocket as he kept the man's attention on their conversation.

Those creepy yellow eyes closed for a moment, before the man took a deep breath and sat up straight. Instead of simply moving upwards, his spine looked like he was rolling out of his position.

The man in front of him looked like a dragon, sitting up to spew fire at a hapless victim.

It was when every instinct in his body started screaming 'Predator' that he noticed Blaise's cousin, Byron, watching them carefully. 

His eyes were focused less on Nicholas, however, and more on the man.

"My name is Smaug. Whatever name was bequeathed upon me by whatever mother I might have had in this time around is forgotten in the wake of memories." Smaug made a sound, like he was having trouble breathing. "The memories I regain are a lot less pleasant than some of the ones you will have. It is difficult to go through life normally when you remember killing so many."

Halfway between screaming or throwing his drink in Smaug's face and running, Nicholas stopped.  
In his mind, he could see a gigantic red dragon, his stomach studded with hundreds, if not thousands, of gold pieces and jewels. 

He could smell blood all around him, could feel a sword in his hand as he fought to get across a field to...

His neck hurt from how quickly he whipped his head around to look for Blaise.

"He is well. I delayed the threat to his and his family's safety. It is a creature that has survived being separated from the very thing that kept it alive. Nowhere near as old as myself, not by a longshot." Smaug pulled his head back around to face him. "I must say, as I have been trying to tell everyone that I know the location of, that I am not the threat this time."

Nicholas raised a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes. "What exactly...What is happening?"

"Do you remember the Arkenstone?" meeting his eyes, Smaug sighed. "It is that God forsaken gem that started this problem. It started us all on this cycle and the longer it was held onto, the more the holder got brought back only to die again."

"The Arkenstone?" Grimacing, Nicholas shook his head.

An image was in his mind, like someone had recorded a fade away and played it in reverse. A small creature with red-brown hair, curled around pointed ears, looking like someone had pulled his heart from his chest. There was hair on his feet, his bare toes digging into the rocky ground. A man with long dark hair and a short dark beard, dressed in a fur lined jacket, was snarling at him.

Smaug leaned forward and pressed his fingers to Nicholas's wrist. "Your pulse is racing. Are you alright?"

"What is happening now, though?" Breathing slowly again, Nicholas opened his eyes. "What is going on, and why are you here?"

"I am here to keep everyone alive and bring back together the company of Thorin, son of Thrain, King under the mountain. You all need to be in one place so that you will all be safe and so I can explain what happened." Smaug looked towards the door. 

"Also Bilbo and Thorin need to be at each other's sides. Even if nothing happens between them."

Smaug stood, pulling something from his jacket pocket. "It is getting dark. There are things lurking in the shadows. If you do not hurry, you will be caught by them and then nothing will be well. You will send him into heartbreak if you die."

He set a small box on the edge of the table and walked away.

"That is yours." he called over his shoulder.

With Smaug gone, Nicholas felt like he could breathe again. Moving slowly, he picked up the box, unwrapping the ribbon that had been tied around it and letting it fall to the floor. When he removed the lid, a flood of memories hitting him all at once.   
Inside the box was a carved piece of wood, angular shapes scored into the surface. The edges were softened by age, but he could still make out that they were there. It looked like it had been broken off a larger item, the edges rough and splintered.

"This is a courting gift..." he murmured, running his fingers along the edges. "I made it."

"Who was that?"

Nicholas turned to see Buckley standing near him, a puzzled look on his face. 

"That was a nightmare from the past."

"What?"

With a chuckle, Nicholas shook his head. "I get the feeling we're all going to find out soon enough."

 

XxXxX

 

"Nicholas?" Blaise tugged on his hair, pulling a braid behind his ear. "What happened at the cafe today?"

Nicholas pressed a hand to Blaise's cheek, knocking their heads together lightly. "It's kind of scary. Are you prepared for that?"

Hesitating for a few seconds, Blaise nodded slowly. "I think I am. It feels like there's a piece missing right now. Like there's a chunk of information missing, and the moment it gets filled in, everything that I've been missing in my life will finally make sense."

"Like there's a gap. You're missing out on some things not because that's what is supposed to happen, but because you don't know something that it seems like everyone else is aware of." Nicholas smiled and handed the chunk of wood in his lap over to Blaise. "The thing I was missing is that this HAS happened before."

The wood was warm in Blaise's hands, mostly smooth, and it felt very familiar.

"You made this." Eyebrows furrowing, Blaise frowned, "You made this for me, I remember that. I remember this." The tips of his fingers were slightly numb, like his brain was panicking. "It's ancient and broken and the language on the outside of it isn't english, but I know it's mine and that you made it for me."

"What does the name Bofur mean to you?"

Dark brown eyes widened as Blaise's breath caught in his throat. Nicholas's eyes were focused on his face, his mouth drawn into a line. 

"That was me, wasn't it?" 

Nicholas nodded. "I've got the memories of two very different lives, shoehorned into my head. One is Nicholas Ritter, halfway to alcholic, half owns a tattoo parlor with a friend, dating a wonderful man named Blaise Udell." he took a deep breath, like he was trying not to panic. "The other is a Dwarf named Nori, of the family Ri. Middle child, to be exact. Caught by guards several times for being a thief. One of the members of Thorin Oakenshield's company."

"On the journey to reclaim Erebor." Blaise whispered, like he was afraid of saying it any louder. Like if he said it louder, someone would overhear and separate them. "We reclaimed the mountain in the end, at the loss of the royal line of Durin."

"The man at the cafe was Smaug. You remember him?"

Blaise nodded.

"He's not the villain this time. He wants us to gather the company together. You and your family are all collected in one place already. So is my family." Nicholas grimaced, rubbing at his forehead. "I have no fucking clue where anyone else might be."

There was a moment where Blaise was silent, lips pursed as he thought of something. Then:

"Who is your little brother dating this time?"

Nicholas's jaw dropped, a startled noise emitting from his throat. "You are a brilliant, brilliant, gorgeous man."

Blaise smiled and kissed his cheek. "All I'm saying is that it seems an awful lot like Dwalin came to find Ori."

"And I think if Dori remembers, it'll be easy enough for him to trust the man with our youngest sibling. If I remember correctly, they ended up married." Nicholas pulled out a pen, grabbing a napkin. "Where Dwalin appears, he's usually close by to Thorin and Balin."

"Now, where do you suppose we find Bilbo Baggins?"

Nicholas shrugged, an amused smile on his face. "Smaug mentioned that Bilbo and Thorin need to be near each other. I'm thinking that where we find Thorin, we'll find Bilbo."

**Author's Note:**

> I have been not posting this because I haven't gotten the third chapter written yet. Shit has been going on in my life and it's been awful to deal with. You get Thorin and Bilbo's chapter now.
> 
> Also, I think that Smaug looks like Cumberbatch. I'm not a big fan of Smaug!Lock, but I just think that Cumberbatch looks odd enough to be a dragon in human form.
> 
> (I feel a little bad editing five minutes after posting, but I needed it to be a different title.)


End file.
